


Through the Valley

by thestarsapart



Series: Of the Shadow of Death [2]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s01e22 What Kind of Day Has It Been, Episode: s02e01 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen: Part 1, Episode: s02e02 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen: Part 2, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsapart/pseuds/thestarsapart
Summary: "Toby—” C.J. started."He'll be fine," Toby said, the words spilling out. The only words worth saying. The only words he had. "He'll be fine." He raised his hand to run it over his scalp, but stopped when he saw that it was covered in dried blood. Josh's blood. Toby looked over at C.J.'s hands, lying open in her lap. He had held her hand, while they watched the paramedics take Josh away. And now Josh's blood was drying on both of their hands, instead of still inside him where it belonged.The Rosslyn shooting, from Toby Ziegler's perspective.





	Through the Valley

Toby walked briskly in front of CJ, Sam, and Josh, enjoying the thrumming in his chest that he grudgingly identified as happiness. Despite his reputation, he tended to feel cheerful much more often that anyone would believe, but he had worked hard for years to cultivate his characteristic gruffness, and besides, there was always another disappointment waiting just around the corner to ruin his good mood. Tonight, though, he took a moment to revel in the feeling of contentment. David was safely back on Earth from his shuttle mission, and Toby felt like he had been given a second chance to reconnect with his younger brother. He listened idly to Charlie and Zoey chatting in front of him as he resolved to call David later that night.

“Toby!” the President beckoned from the front of the crowd. “Walk with me!” Toby elbowed his way between the young lovebirds and caught up to President Bartlet.

“Yes, sir,” Toby said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“What do you got to say for yourself?” the President asked. Toby tried for a brief second to remember if he had done anything wrong that night.

“About what?”

The President mimicked the swoosh gesture that Sam had used earlier that night to tell him the good news about his brother, and the relief came flooding back to him once more. Toby laughed with the sheer joy of it, and said, “Yes, sir!”

Toby followed the President down the steps towards the crowd, and tried not to flinch away from the cameras and attention as the President began to wave. His hopes for an early exit were dashed as the President made his way to the crowd and began greeting the people gathered. CJ and Sam wandered off to the right towards their car, but Toby stayed with the President, soaking up his good cheer and the smiles of the deafening crowd.

Toby had just leaned against the metal barricade and begun to shift impatiently when he heard the first shot. The nearby Secret Service agents flowed around him like a wave and surrounded the President, dragging him away and knocking Toby to the ground against the barricades in their haste. The crowd, screaming in fear now instead of adoration, began leaping over the barricade. Toby struggled for a moment to stand, then just concentrated on not being crushed by the feet landing around his head. After an eternity of rolling chaos, the background noise decreased by a fraction and Toby discovered that no one was trying to stand on top of him anymore.

Toby allowed himself a quick prayer and a moment to shake in utter terror and relief, then did a rapid inventory of himself: no blood, no holes anywhere there shouldn’t be, no pain except the ache where his head had hit the barricade. He didn’t stop to wonder what to do next. He had a very clear list in his head of people he needed to find, a list that went: Bartlet, Leo, C.J., Sam, Josh, Charlie. Toby didn’t know how or when he had made up the list, but he liked lists and he was going to stick to this one. Item one: the President. Toby was sure the Secret Service agents had done their job, but he felt a familiar, overwhelming need to know what exactly was going on, so he stood and glanced around for someone to ask.

It was chaos. Pure chaos. People were still screaming and running, although Toby noted that he didn’t hear any more gunshots. Sirens approached loudly, and the scene seemed to be filled with flashing police lights, making everything seem both brighter and darker than it ought to be. He couldn’t see any of his friends, or even anyone he knew well enough to bully into giving him information. Then a Secret Service agent ran past, shouting “Eagle is secure!” into his radio.

Okay, that was item one. Next item on the list: Leo. Toby turned aimlessly for a moment, trying to find a familiar face in the roiling mass of people. And there, twenty feet in front of him, was Leo, being hustled towards the open door of a black sedan by a crowd of agents. Toby even spotted Josh being shoved into back of the car right behind Leo. This list thing was going to be easy.

But no, wait, that wasn’t Josh. As the man turned to reach for the car door and slam it shut, Toby realized the curly head of hair belonged to one of the agents on Leo’s protective detail, Robert Shanahan. Josh and Shanahan were nearly indistinguishable from the back; more than once, Toby had started shouting at the poor guy from a distance about the policy issue of the day only to have the agent turn around and give him a long-suffering and decidedly un-Josh-like smile. 

Well, all right, Leo was safe in a car, anyway. So then where was Josh? Larry and Ed, inseparable as always, hurried past, ignoring Toby’s shouts until he finally grabbed Larry’s tie. It might have been Ed’s.

“Hey!” Toby shouted over the din, “Where’s Josh?”

“The Secret Service just put him in a car with Leo!” Ed shouted. It might have been Larry.

“They’re headed back to the White House!” the other one yelled, gesturing in the direction of the black sedan, which had made its way through the roiling crowd and disappeared onto the street.

“That wasn’t Josh, that was Shanahan! Have you seen any of the other senior staff?” Toby asked. Both men shook their heads.

“We only saw Leo and Josh— or, Shanahan, I guess. They sure do look alike from the back,” shrugged Larry.

Toby released his tie before he was too tempted to throttle him with it, and they scurried off.

Toby hesitated for a moment, lost. C.J. was next on his list, but a powerful urge to find Josh was creeping into the pit of his stomach. Well, C.J. and Josh were together the last time he had seen them, so he’s probably find them together anyway. Besides, it was Toby’s (completely arbitrary) list, so he could change it if he wanted to.

He wandered for a moment, shouting Josh’s name, until he ran into Charlie coming the opposite direction.

“Hey, Charlie,” he said, grabbing the young man’s arm and gratefully checking his name off the list.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked, his sincere concern shining through the obvious bewilderment on his face.

“Yeah, have you seen Josh?”

“He got in the car with Leo,” Charlie said, jerking his thumb vaguely in the direction of the police cars. Toby felt the uneasiness in his stomach begin to grow.

“No, he didn’t. Shanahan got in with Leo! Josh didn’t get in the car.” Toby felt like throwing something. He tried to calm himself down. There was no reason he should be worrying about Josh specifically. It was probably just the paranoia that Toby always felt when he felt happy for more than three seconds.

A woman shouted for help. Toby didn’t recognize the voice, and it certainly wasn’t Josh, so as Charlie ran off in her direction, Toby walked the other way, trying to talk his stomach into calming down. As he turned, he spotted a distinctive head of curly hair peeking out from behind a concrete flower box and his fear turned instantly to annoyance as he ran up the stairs towards Josh.

“Josh! Didn’t you hear me shouting for you?” Damn him for making me worry, Toby cursed. And for screwing up my list. And for making me run. “We didn’t know where the hell you were—”

Toby stopped in front of Josh, who was sitting at the top of the steps, leaning against the flower box. Josh’s face, staring up at Toby, was very, very pale. The blood seeping between Josh’s fingers was very, very red. Toby was struck by how wrong everything was. It all felt ridiculous. They shouldn’t have been shot at; they should be going home. Josh shouldn’t be sitting there looking at him like that; he should be standing and bouncing and joking in that irritatingly energetic way of his. Toby had never seen Josh this still before.

Toby opened his mouth and to his horror, words failed him. His voice wavered for a moment, then he shouted, “I need a— I need a doctor! I need help!”

Josh was still looking at Toby with so much pain and fear and vulnerability that Toby wanted to look away. Instead, Toby reached out as his friend began to fall, lowering him gently to the ground as Josh tried to speak.

"Don't try to talk, Josh," Toby said, laying Josh gently on his back. "You've been shot in the chest. There's probably some sort of… lung… damage." Oh, that's insightful. Tell him something he DOESN'T know. The sentiment was reflected back in Josh's eyes, sarcasm shining through the pain.

C.J. and Sam ran up, both emitting gasps of "Oh, my God." C.J. knelt immediately next to Josh and placed both hands on his wound, pushing down hard. Josh grimaced.

"Sorry, Josh," C.J. said desperately, tears in her voice and her eyes, "I have to… to put pressure on this."

Sam knelt next to Josh's head and looked into his eyes. "Hey, buddy," he said, placing a hand on Josh's forehead. "Just breathe, okay? You'll be fine."

Josh grinned and said, "Buddy? Sure thing, champ. No problem, Ace." His voice was hoarse, but Sam and C.J. laughed, glad to hear the Lyman wit was still intact, if strained. Then Josh began to cough, and Sam looked up at Toby, his eyes pleading.

Toby stood, frustrated, and shouted, "Is a doctor too much to ask over here? How about a paramedic? A nurse? A boy scout with a First Aid badge? Anything?!"

Finally a Secret Service agent in a rumpled suit ran towards him. "What do you need, Mr. Ziegler? Are you hurt?" Toby was about to start shouting again when the young agent looked down and saw Josh. Then he took off towards the ambulances, yelling into his radio. A moment later, two paramedics ran towards them, pulling a stretcher. One of them knelt immediately at Josh's side, while the other opened a bag of medical supplies and pulled out wads of bandages, handing them to his partner.

The paramedic at Josh's side spoke quietly to C.J., who pulled her hands away and stood slowly with Sam. The medics went to work, hands filled with gauze and tubing flying over Josh's body, calling his name between muttering phrases like "decreasing LOC" and "possible pneumothorax" to each other. More paramedics ran up and joined the fray. They tore open Josh's shirt and all Toby could see was the blood against Josh's skin. Toby couldn't look at the blood anymore, so he looked up at C.J. and Sam instead. Sam was visibly shaking, and C.J. was clutching his hand tightly, but he didn't seem to feel it. C.J. met Toby's eyes, and his instinctive reaction to her tears was to say something comforting. He opened his mouth, then realized there was nothing to say. Nothing. No words could make this ridiculous, horrifying situation better. He had nothing for her.

Josh was lifted onto the stretcher and Toby caught a glimpse of his face under the oxygen mask before he was whisked away, Sam following close behind. Toby felt a hand in his and turned to see C.J. standing next to him.

"What do we do now?" she asked. Toby consulted the new list in his head. Josh was at the top. The President would understand.

"We go with Josh. Until we know he's…" His voice cracked. "Until we know something. Then we go back to work." Out of the corner of his eye, Toby spotted a young local police officer standing next to his cruiser.

"Hey!" Toby shouted. The officer looked up. "We're White House staff. Our friend was injured." He waved his hand towards Josh's ambulance, which was working its way through the crowd of vehicles filling the road. "Can you—?"

"I'm on my way up to GW," the officer interrupted. "You're welcome to hitch a ride."

Toby nodded gratefully and climbed into the back of the cruiser with C.J. The officer edged the cruiser through the traffic jam in the ambulance's wake, then flipped on the siren as they hit the highway at top speed behind the ambulance carrying Josh. For a few moments, they rode in silence. Toby stared out the window, still unable to think of anything to say.

"Toby—” C.J. started.

"He'll be fine," Toby said, the words spilling out. The only words worth saying. The only words he had. "He'll be fine." He raised his hand to run it over his scalp, but stopped when he saw that it was covered in dried blood. Josh's blood. Toby looked over at C.J.'s hands, lying open in her lap. He had held her hand, while they watched the paramedics take Josh away. And now Josh's blood was drying on both of their hands, instead of still inside him where it belonged.

"We're here!" the officer called from the front. He parked the cruiser next to the ambulance, which had pulled up right next to the doors to the emergency room. Toby emerged from the quiet of the cruiser into yet another chaotic, shouting crowd. Out of the mob of doctors, nurses, and paramedics swarming around the ambulance, Charlie appeared.

"Hey, C.J., Toby." Charlie didn't look any better than Toby felt, but his voice was steady.

"Charlie? How did you get here so fast?" C.J. asked as she hugged the young man.

"I caught a ride with the Secret Service. The President—” Charlie was interrupted when the back doors of the ambulance burst open and Sam hopped out, his face pale.

"It's bad," Sam said as Josh's stretcher was pulled out.

"Oh, my God," Charlie murmured.

"Gunshot wound, no exit!" one of the paramedics shouted at the top of her lungs.

"He's got decreased breath sounds on the left," another said. "Pulse ox is ninety-four on fifteen liters." More doctors rushed towards them as they entered the emergency room. Toby saw Leo on the other side of the crowd and wondered briefly how he had arrived at the hospital so quickly.

"It's Josh!" C.J. yelled to Leo, who ran to the side of the stretcher.

"Josh?" Leo called. "What happened?" he asked the rest of them. Toby thought for a moment and realized he didn't know. He hadn't seen Josh shot, he only found him later. How long had Josh been sitting there, bleeding, waiting for help?

"I don't know," he admitted as they all ran with the stretcher towards a trauma room. "He was behind us." Sam elbowed his way past Toby until he was next to Josh again.

"Josh, I'm here!" he said. Josh pawed at his oxygen mask. He was conscious, but seemed confused.

"I shouldn't be in this meeting," Josh said hoarsely. He continued babbling and began to struggle as they entered the trauma room and the nurses began running about even more frantically.

"Tell me what's happening!" Leo demanded, but everyone in the room was too busy to answer. Sam had secured a place next to Josh's head and was speaking softly to him, but the rest of the staff were pushed back by the throng of medical personnel. They lifted Josh from the paramedic's stretcher to a hospital gurney.

"Josh, a bullet collapsed your lung," a doctor said loudly, and Toby felt the room spin. He found himself watching the scene with an odd sense of detachment. Glimpses of Josh's pale skin flecked with bright red behind a tornado of blue scrubs. The darker red of C.J.'s hands, held up and away from her body. The dark blur of Leo's suit as he spun from Josh to Toby to C.J. and back. Toby felt like he was watching it all from a distance.

"You need to wait outside." A man in scrubs was standing in front of them. Toby stared at him for a moment, trying to work out what he had just said. Leo nodded slowly.

"Yeah." He turned to his staff. "Let's let them work." Leo led Toby, C.J., and Charlie outside and down a short hallway to a small room filled with chairs. Toby stood still, gazing at a potted plant, trying in vain to make himself connect to what was happening.

"Leo, how's the President?" Charlie asked softly. C.J. looked up from her own silent reverie.

"Is he back at the White House?" she asked. "Someone should tell him about Josh, he'll want to… What?" Toby glanced up and saw that Leo and Charlie were looking at C.J. with odd expressions.

"What is it?" Toby asked, startled.

"The President was also shot," Leo said. Toby felt his mind snap back to reality. No more detachment— his skin felt clammy, and there was a roaring in his ears. He sank into a chair.

"How bad?" he heard himself ask.

"I just saw him a minute ago," Leo said. Charlie was pacing behind him. C.J. stood next to Toby, her hand on her neck. "He was conscious and talking. He was hit in the abdomen. The doctors are putting him under right now. They think he should be fine." Toby put his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

He heard footsteps and looked up. Sam stood in the doorway, looking lost. Toby's heart clenched in fear.

"Josh?" he forced himself to ask.

"They took him upstairs for surgery," Sam said. C.J. led him to a chair and he sat, staring at nothing. "They'll let us know."

"Sam, the President—” C.J. began.

"I know, they told me," Sam said. "How could this… Why?"

"We've got people working on that," Leo said. "Nothing any of us can do about it right now."

"So, what do we do now?" Charlie asked. He had stopped pacing, and Toby thought he looked younger than he had ever seen him. Leo put his hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"We wait."


End file.
